Shake, Shiver
by encanta
Summary: Deeks is sick and this time, Kensi is the one to bring him soup. Fluff. References to 2x21.


The text alert on his phone sounds loud and proud, shattering the silence in his bedroom and making Deeks wince.

_Sushi?_

He doesn't even have to look at the name to know it's Kensi, and any other day he'd be down but today he's huddled under all the covers, shaking even though it's one of those balmy 80 degree days. Yup – he's sick. Being sick on the weekend is both a blessing and a curse when you're adult. On one hand, you're not missing anything important, letting someone down, or using up one of your sick days. On the other hand, when your pretty partner texts you to go get food, you're too miserable to do anything except wallow in bed.

Speaking of - god, he's freezing. The nausea's subsided though, at the very least.

_Sick_, he texts her back succinctly, dropping his phone and rolling over, curling into himself. Maybe if he had a shirt on he'd be warmer, but the sweatpants aren't doing anything. He shivers and hears the click of Monty's nails on the wood floors as the dog joins him, hopping up onto the bed and nosing him. He lies on top of him which doesn't really help, but he appreciates the dog sentiment. Or whatever.

No reply comes from Kensi but Deeks is too concerned with his shivering and how fucking delirious he feels to be too worried. She'll probably just go with Callen.

It feels like an hour or four pass and he daydreams about falling asleep, a shitty side effect of being sick – you want to fall asleep to escape feeling like shit, but your mind only tricks you into thinking it happens. He hears the sound of his door being unlocked and the only reason he's sure it's not fake is because Monty rockets off the bed, skittering across the floor and growling. The door opens and the growling melts into affectionate whimpers and Deeks turns up on his side a little, looking over his shoulder at the door.

"Sick enough that you don't want sushi?" comes Kensi's voice and then she's standing at the threshold of his bedroom door, an eyebrow cocked as Monty noses at her hand. "Should I be worried?"

"Nah," he replies, sinking back down, tugging the covers back in place so she can barely see him. "It's the flu, I think. It's eighty out and I'm freezing."

Kensi makes a face and then she's next to his bedside, peeking down at him. She reaches out, pressing the backs of her fingers against his forehead and wincing.

"Wow, you really are hot."

"I know," he quips weakly, and she rolls her eyes, her knuckles brushing over his skin lightly.

"Be right back," she says, and she disappears for all of ten minutes. It takes ten minutes to warm the soup up, the soup she'd brought him because the first thing that had come to mind when he'd said he was sick was Nicole. It's been a couple months, but Kensi still tries her hardest not to think about that case, because it unearths feeling she doesn't want to deal with, emotions she was sure she'd never had.

"It's not sushi, but hopefully you'll be able to stomach this a little better," she says, setting the bowl and a spoon on his nightstand. She also has a bottle of water and two aspirin, just in case.

Deeks leans up a little when he feels her sit down at the foot of his bed.

"You brought me chicken soup?" he asks, sounding vaguely amused, but mostly just miserable.

"Do you not like it?" Kensi asks, and before she can tear him a new one for being ungrateful (he recognizes that tone all too well), he shakes his head and says, "No, I don't… not like it," quickly. He slumps back down and reaches for the spoon, like he's going to actually get soup in his mouth from the angle.

Kensi huffs. "You're going to spill it on yourself." She gets off his bed again and stalks out of his bedroom, dragging one of his kitchen chairs with her when she returns. Pulling it next to his bed, she sits down, taking the bowl and holding the spoon up at him.

"Really?" Deeks asks, chuckling softly. "I know it isn't clear sometimes, but I'm really not five years old." Still, he opens his mouth when she bumps the spoon against his teeth, swallowing the broth down. He's surprised but pleased it doesn't make him want to puke, and gratefully accepts the rest spoonful by spoonful, his eyes trained on her face the whole time. Kensi's expression is soft, her hand perfectly steady, and Deeks thinks it's safe to say that she's never spoon-fed any of her other partners soup before, so he feels special, or about as special as you can possibly feel with the flu.

When the bowl is empty, she sets it aside and Deeks quirks a small smile, another shiver shuddering through him. "Thanks," he says, tightening the blankets over himself as Kensi reaches out to pick up the little pills between her finger and thumb.

"Take these," she prompts, holding them and the glass of water out to him. He does what he's told, throwing the pills back and emptying the glass of water. Kensi takes it from him when he's done and reaches out to touch his forehead again, then hold her hand against his hot, hot cheek. She pulls back and Deeks thinks she might leave now, but instead she kicks off her shoes and reaches to pull the covers back for a moment, long enough to slide her warm body in beside his before replacing them quickly around them.

As much as he doesn't want to, Deeks protests. "'M gonna get you sick," he mutters, pushing at her arm, indicating she should get out. Kensi just rolls her eyes, curling close. "I never get sick," she boasts, rubbing her hand over his arm quickly before she hugs her arms around him, holding him close. She can feel him shivering again and she pulls the blankets around them tighter as he burrows against her.

"I hate the chills. I'd rather be burning up," she says, a hand rubbing up and down his back slowly. "My dad used to hold me like this when I got the chills as a kid. It didn't help much to warm me, but it made me feel a little better because I wasn't alone, you know?"

Deeks shivers again, but nods. "Yeah," he says, his forehead pressed against the crook of her neck. "I know what you mean." Her embrace warms him in a different way and he's glad she showed up to keep him company. She's a good partner, and beyond that, Kensi Blye is a good friend.

When he finally slips off to sleep, courtesy of both the aspirin and Kensi's presence, the girl on her mind is the furthest thing from his.


End file.
